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The powers of nature now began to droop, | Departed friends and bliss-departed hours,
As grisly Death came, arm'd with all bis fears Fled like the morning dew from yonder
In long succession ; but as his pale eye

flowers; Beheld the glorious throng that near him stood, | Evening again her vesper tear shall shed, Well nigh confounded, he with terror quak'd, But when will ruthless Time recall the dead? And dropp'd to earth his dart of stingless point.

Yet there are times that I can only bear When thus the Invisible :-—"Come bither, Thy wildest deepest minstrelsy to lear. Death,

And there are hours my ravisb'd soul can Dismiss this spirit from its eartbly house;

weep, With quick despatch emancipate his soul, When nature's self has clos'd her eyes in And raise to light ineffable this saint.”

sleep; Grim Death assum'd a kind of sickly smile, While to my mind the faded joys, the tears, And touch'd him gently with his mortal dart. | The vanish'd lost delights of other years The happy spirit rose triumpbantly

Appear in mem’ry's retrospective gaze, O'er the last enemy, and all the ills

Much like the vanish'd meieor's fallen blaze. That wait on mortals in this vale of tears. The attending armies of the blessed choirs And much I owe thee, muse of mournful lay, Who laud the praises of Jehovah's love Thou smooth’dst my path o'er many a weary In songs of glory to their golden lyres,

way, Receiv'd the enraptur'd spirit with a shout, | When heart was rent from heart, and soul from Which soon was beard by the angelic throng, soul, As up the shining way they flew, to join And reason stepp'd beyond thy mild control, Their lov'd companions in the realms of bliss, Still thy soft harp elegiac measures breath'd, With the addition of this saint of God.

And round their tomb the cypress garland Him having introduc'd to the Most High.

wreath'd, They strang their barps, and sweetly thus they Distraction filed, hope wbisper'd sweet relief, sung:

And reason smiling own's the joy of grief.",

Nor less belov'd because thy look is pale, “ Hail, glorious Deity, whose mighty And sad as pity's sigla at sorrow's tale. strength

Tho' o'er thy cheek no rosy lustre glows, Reigns in the beaven of heavens illustrious, The lily there may sleep in soft repose. Whose wisdom form'd the assembled multi- | Nor yet alone, methinks ; yon crystal gem,

Trembling beneath thine eye's dark diadem, Who throng the plains of immortality! Shines like some stream reflecting froin afar, Honour and blessing to our God be given, The pale and silv'ry glance of evening's star. Who, from the battlements of yon fair wall,

ments or yon fair wall, And sweet thy harp, although its tones be Thrast down his foes, to dwell in endless night. wild, Ride on, victorious conqueror, crush the force Wild us the fabled song of ocean's child. Of Satan's legions, hurl the rebel crew | Then strike again yon rapture-thrilling string, Into the bottom of yon burning gulf.

| Sweet as the aerial wood-notes of the spring; We sing the triumphs of Jehovah's Son, To heal this heart to faithless friendship true, Whom thou ordain dst to save a ruin'd world, Or bid its throbbing wounds rebleed anew. Bound in the fetters Lucifer hath made. Thou blessed Spirit, co-essential God,

Yes! there was one, (yet mention not her Thee we adore in strains of heavenly sound.

name, Thou who diffusest thyself throughout the 'Twas but a vision o'er my spirit came ;) whole

Her heart is constant, friendship whisper'd Of thy creation, Triune Majesty,

this, Whose glorious empire ne'er shall have an end, Bat fate awoke me from my dream of bliss. To thee we bow, and own thee Lord and King. Twin-sisters like, bow often have we stray'd, Haste, all ye stars that deck yon shining vault, Where smiling spring her verdant tints dis. Thou sun, and moon, and all ye planets bright, play'd; Come, join the general chorus, and ascribe Or summer deck'd her violet, heav'nly blue ! Power and dominion to the Invisible.

And blush'd with pride her new-born rose to Prolong your anthems as ye onward roll,

view. And teach creation to resound His praise.” Still mem'ry lingers o'er that dream of light, (To be continued.)

When life was new, and hope's young morning

bright; When festive childhood deck'd her rosy bow'r,

Nor deem'd that grief might crush each tender ADDRESS TO THE MUSE.


As the fond widow'd bosom still repairs OH! come, and to my fancy's ear prolong To yon lone spot oft wet with mem'ry's tears, The wild enchanting witchery of song.

Leans o'er the urn she clasps with madd’ning Strike, strike those notes of deepest sorrow kiss, now,

And drinks intoxicating draagbts of bliss. Which tell of early friendship’s broken vow; While every tear and half-told sigh suppress'd Of joys of other years now.pass'd away, Still draw her nearer to the goal of rest; And life's dim fountain ebbing to decay. So mem'ry still retreads yon verdant plain,', Enough, enough, I've heard their cadence o'er, And smiles and weeps, and dreams it o'er again. And this deluded heart can brook no more. Their sounds far other years of bliss recall, And where art thou, belov'd of other years, Which, wild as notes of aerial music fall. As soft, as transient, as Aurora's tears?




Oh! where art thou, sweet plant of other I can mark thy tyrant reign times,

In the desolated plain;
By fate transplanted into happier climes.

In the icy-fetter'd rills,
Yes, 'twas an hoor of deep, of dark distress, On the white-capt barren hills;
When death eclips'd thine eye's dark loreli In the lone forsaken lea

I thy with’ring footsteps see.
Scarce trembling reason held her feeble sway, Catile now no longer range
And fear'd e'en grief might quench her taper's O'er the wide deserted grange,

Warmly hoas’d, and daily fed
That night has fled, and smiling hope's return In stabble-yards, or matied shed;
Wreathes blooming garlands round thy early But the sheep, with fleecy clothes,

Brave thy sleet and scorn thy snows.
“ What, tho'," she says, “ the flow'rs are wet Straight thy glacial track I find,
with tears,

Where the wintry-costum'd hind
More sweetly fair each budding tint appears; Silent wends his cheerless way,
Soon shall each blossom burst in endless day, Follow'd by old faithful Tray;
And blest froition dasb those dews away. No other sounds his cold ears greet,

Bat crumpling snow beneath his feet; “ Then come, while rankling sorrows swell Or straggling lark that upward springs, the sail,

And twitt'ring plies unwilling wings; And life's frail bark still sweeps before the Or, perchance, some sportsman's call gale :

May down a neighb'ring valley fall. Oh come! while yet this beating breast can Through the woods, disrob'd of green, know

Still thy blighting course is seen; Palsation's echo to its notes of wo:

Lonely glades, and silent bowers, Lend me thy barp, teach me to sweep its Leafless sprays, and wither'd flowers; strings,

Dells that late with music rung,
Till ravishd ev’ning clap her dewy wings; Now with crystal icedrops hung;
Till ber soft lustre shine thro' starry skies, And truant redbreasts far aloof,
And all, save morning, sparkle from her eyes. Piping on some straw-thatch'd roof.

Anon I chase thee to the side
“ But, ah! too much for me were such de of glassy pool, where skaters glide;

Or where the pale sun's wat'ry ray Still absent genias clogs my wisb’d-for flight; Weeps sadly on the wbite pathway; Still doom'd to strike a reed of rusbes bound, Or to some wild hawthorn's top, Whose grating murmurs creep along the

Where the fieldfare fills bis crop; ground.

Or where the wild duck dips her wing, Yet rather would I tune my humble lay, In some half-frozen purling spring. Tho' all unseen, unheard, it pass away,

Thas, thos, in ev'ry passing scene Than wear the gay appendages of pride,

Thy hoary wrinkled form is seen; Or taste of mirth's inebriating tide.

But tho' ily withering breath destroys,

Yet, Winter, yet thou bast thy joys: * Since then in vain I court thy coy ad vance, For, ah! when evening draws her veil, To guide me thro' life's long and mazy dance;

Gladly do I thy presence bail; Say, wilt thon come, and view my narrow bed, The noise of youthful revelry, When the long grass waves lightly o'er my The song of ancient chivalry, head,

The artless kiss, the winter's tale, And tune thy silv'ry harp to tell a tale,

The gen'rous glass of spicy ale, As soft and sad as lover's dying wail,

The blazing yule, the merry jest, Then swell its chords to so sablime a sound, The carol sweet, the Christmas feast, That e'en the dead will slamber more profound.

The lamp of night with lucid ray,

The starry-studded milky-way, “ These are the dreams which haunt life's Bring thoughts that sweeily o'er my senses op'ning day,

creep, And sink 'neath time's rude touch unseen Till lall'd by passing winds, I sink to sleep. away;

| Newark, Dec. 13, 1824. G. W. B. Yet still i'll catch those sweets which fancy In freshest fragrance from her golden wings,

And tho' they wither ere my hands can clasp
One tender flow'ret in their eager grasp,.

DREAD darkness reigns, and not a star
I'll bathe them in fresh drops from sorrow's

ars to cheer t

eer the gloom of night; cup,

The hostile winds are waging war,
And in the vase of mem'ry lock them up."

And wrathful ocean joins the fight.

The storm-wing'd clouds low scowling dy,

And dart their candent flames around;

Concussive tbonders rend the sky,
WINTER, Bow thy frowns I trace,

And pelting hailstones beat the ground.
Spreading wide o'er nature's face;
Wav'ring flakes obscure the skies,

O how the fierce tornado roars,
Darkling tempests scowling rise ;

And yents the fury of his might! And far and wide no sights I see,

His havoc unrelenting pours, Bat those of cheerless misery.

And nature trembles with affright. 74.-VOL. VII.


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s onoroonanamwoocoonasooravonaronowvwwvinarrocore How, on the effervescent deep,

| are too celebrated ever to be forgotten. The tempest-shatter'd bark doth reel! Their philosophy and theology were Her deck the mighty surges sweep,

preserved long after the race became And dash against the rocks ber keel.

extinct, and their rites were abolishHark! how the sea-drench'd sailors cry, ed. “In the remains we have of By dreaded death involv'd around !

Taliesin's poetry we have a good deal To gain the shore with hope they try, But in th' attempt, alas, are drown'd!

of Druidism, and in particular the

doctrine of the metempsychosis. But Can dissipation's vot'ries now

it should be remembered, that some Their impious orgies dare enjoy? Sits not pale terror on their brow?

passages which have been applied to Don't inward fears their mirth destroy ? that doctrine, do more properly refer

to bis initiation into the mysteries of Like adamant must be that heart, Which now insensible remains ;

Keridwen, the British Ceres." In the Which feels not keen compunction's smart writings of the Bards, and of the His

When in the storm Jehovah reigns ! torical Triads, the ancient literature But there's a storm* more big with dread,

of Wales has been preserved ; and to Its horrors fancy cannot paint;

their compositions modern authors re'Twill borst upon the sinner's head,

fer with the same degree of confidence Unless be of his crimes repent.

that appeals are made to the producBut there is found a biding-place,t

tions of Ossian or Homer. But in reA covert from the tempesi's ire;

ference to the biography of ancient The Saviour, full of truth and grace,

heroes, and the writings of the Welsh Did on the cross for man expire !

Triads, we may inquire with the bard Though storms do often fatal prove,

of Selma,-“ Whence is the stream of Yet are they vital blessings found;

years? Whither do they roll along? Jehovah's wisdom, pow'r, and love, The whirlwind's voice proclaims around !

Where have they hid in mist their

many-coloured sides? I look into the Dartmouth, Nov. 24, 1824.

I. M.M. times of old, but they seem dim to * Psalm xi. 6.

Isaiah xxxü. 2. Ossian's eyes, like reflected moon

beams on a distant lake.”

It cannot be denied that the chaReview. The Cambrian Plutarch; 1

racters of the ancient Welsh heroes comprising Memoirs of some of the

are deeply buried in fable, and that most eminent Welshmen, from the ear

the productions of their earlier bards liest times to the present. By John

Tahnare so blended with the mystical rites H. Parry, Esq. 8vo. pp. 396. Lon

of Druidism, that it is extremely diffi

cult to separate truth from fiction, and don. Simpkin & Marshall. 1824.

to preserve realities from being conWe cannot for a moment doubt, that taminated by the allegorical allusions Wales, during the long and varied with which they are incorporated, march of its history, has produced This is a task, however, which Mr. many celebrated characters, distin- Parry has undertaken in the volume guished alike for their unsubdued at- before us ; but conscious of the dantachment to independence, and their gerous ground on which he was about invariable hostility to all foreign in- to tread, be introduces the life of the vaders. Of these patriotic individu- renowned Arthur with the following als, the names have descended to us preliminary observations:on the stream of time, associated with ) honours, which have acquired an ad

" To rescue trath from the embraces of fic. ditional veneration from the shadows

tion, and to erect on the ruins of fable the fair

edifice of genuine history, must be, at all times, of mystical obscurity in which they a work of no little bazard. And the task -aoare enveloped. The mists of fable quires a pecaliar difficalty, when it concerns have invested these ancient heroes those legendary productions, in which our inwith a mantle of hoary grandeur, on

fancy has been wont to delight, and which are

accordingly associated with our earliest pre. which we gaze with silent wonder ;

possessions. The visions of childhood are not and while, in imagination, their sha

easily dissipated; for, whatever may be the dows flit before us, we involuntarily influence of a matarer experience, it is not associate them in our minds, with the without relactance that the mind emancipates spectres of Fingal and Hector.

itself from the spell of its former illasions.

Wbere the genius of romance has spread Nor has the genius of Wales been

around her gorgeous creation, we love to lin. so devoted to the sword, as to neglect

ger near the visionary scene-we bold enrapthe cultivation of letters. The Druids | tared converse with all its fantastic popala181


The Cambrian Plutarch.


tion, and when, at length, the charm is dis- Stripped of the gaudy attire with solved, we are loath to acknowledge those wbich the legends of superstition and beings as merely human, wbom we bave been

romance bad decorated these beroes, accustomed to regard as little less than divine. « There can be no case more strongly illus

they appear before us reduced to the trative of the justice of these observations standard of common heroes. Valour, than the history of the renowned Arthur; en: | patriotism, a love of independence, veloped, as it has been, in the splendid dis

and an unconquerable determination guises of chivalry, and in the extravagant decorations of romantic or mythological lore.

to withstand the invaders of their To strip our hero of tbese delusive ornaments,

country, form the more remarkable and to present him to the world in his real features in their characters. Invested character--not as the triumphant invader of with these native ornaments, the audistant countries-not as the conqueror of thor has presented them to the public, giants and kingdoms—not as the possessor of

without the enchantments of Merlin every baman excellence, and even of superna. tural powers, bot merely as a warrior distin

or the intrigues of Pendragon. guisbed indeed by his valour and his successes, St. David, indeed, whose birth is but not otherwise exalted above bis contem- | placed about the middle of the fifth poraries is an undertaking of no common century, is particularly distinguished risk. Those, who have from their cradle been

for his attachment to Christianity, for taoght to admire

his orthodoxy, zeal, and ability to dewhat resounds

fend its doctrines against the attacks In fable or romance of Uther's son. Begirt with British and Armoric knights,'

of assailants. His austerities and re

tired habits procured for him such a will hardly descend to contemplate that same

character for sanctity, that he was individual, as one exposed to the ordinary vicissitudes of fortune, and pretending to no

raised to a bishopric, and from time other reputation than what belongs to the war

immemorial he has been designated like champion of an ancivilized age. Yet at the tutelary saint of Wales. Nor has last we may say, with an ingenious writer, this exalted dignity been founded exthat, when all fictions' in the life of Arthur

clusively on popular opinion and vulare removed, and when those incidents only

gar prejudices. During two centuare retained, which the sober criticism of history sanctions with its approbation, a fame,

ries after his death, pilgrimages to his ample enougb to interest the judicious, and to shrine in Wales were held, by infalli perpetuate his honourable memory, will still ble authority, to be of equal efficacy continue to bloom.'”-p. 1 and 2.

with one to Rome, and no doubt can

be entertained that it was found so This volume contains biographical by all the devotees. In an ancient Ms. sketches of twenty-two distinguished dated 1022, his pedigree is deduced individuals. Several of these, how- from the Virgin Mary, of whom he is ever, are of recent and comparatively

said to have been the eighteenth lineal modern date, and it is because they descendant. In England the honours bave been rendered famous by their paid to his memory were not less exvarious learning, and attention to the

travagant than those which he receivliterature and language of their an

ed in Wales. In the old church o cestors, that a station has been as

Sarum, prior to the Reformation, the signed to them in the present work.

following collect was annually read To obviate the charge of having intro

on the first of March :-"O God, who daced no greater number of names, by thy angel didst foretell tby blessed Mr. Parry, in his preface, has the fol

confessor, St. David, thirty years belowing observations :

fore he was born, grant unto us, we “The reader must not conclade, that the

beseech thee, that, celebrating his following pages embrace all that is worthy of memory, we may, by his intercession, record in the biographical annals of Wales. attain to joys everlasting.” The few names to which they are confined By the friends of Welsh literature, form a selection out of a considerable number,

genius, and learning, Mr. Parry's vomost of them equally worthy of the pen of the biographer. Bat the author's plan was origi

lume will be perused with interest. nally of a limited nature, and the chronologi.

They will, however, think that a more cal arrangement he had adopted made it anex- copious detail of ancient Welsh aupectedly necessary, in the progress of the thors and their works might have been work, to cortail it still more. The conse given, and will expect the author to quence bas been, that many lives of interest

redeem his demi-pledge of following bave been excladed, which, however, if the present hamble attempt should be favourably

the present work with a supplemenreceived, may serve to form a supplementary

tary volume. On the whole, the convolume, "-Preface, p. viii.

tents of the Cambrian Plutarcharo

less interesting than we had been ledit treats, the laborious researcbes of to anticipate from the title which the its author, or the success which has work assumes. In the biographical crowned his exertions. In each desketches, many historical incidents partment it abounds with excellencies, and events are recorded, which will, which have an imperious claim on our most undoubtedly, be perused with admiration, and their number and avidity, but in many parts the narra- | brilliancy are more than sufficient to tive is interrupted with doubts, and atone for diminutive errors, and occaencumbered with notes, which some sional deficiencies, from which no pubtimes have only a distant affinity to lication of such a peculiar character the subjects which are presumed to can ever expect to be exempt. have given them birth, while the sub The invention of Printing is intistance of others might without diffi- mately connected with the intellectual culty have been incorporated in the character of man, and with the litetext.

rature of the world. No conquest, no The work, however, is not without defeat, no change of empire, no parits merits, of which no small portion tition of kingdoms, has ever intros consists in the ingenious diligence of duced a revolution so extensive and the author, while separating the real so permanent. Its dominion stretches from the fictitious history of his he- over the civilized part of our species, roes and bards. In this be seems to and promises to humanize the rest. have been successful, and it is not Its vigour increases with the progresimprobable, that in being thus fortu-sion of ages; even time can hardly be nate, he may have given to his me- said to set boundaries to its power ; moirs something like a meagre as- for so far as the productions of the pect, which would not have been ob- Press affect the moral condition of served if the history of the individu- mankind, the art of Printing extends als had been previously unknown. its influence to eternity.

We rejoice that this work has been | For the invention of an engine so undertaken, and we shall be glad to powerful and so important, it is not a hear of its success. The Welsh lan- matter of surprise that there should guage is besieged in its native moun- | be many competitors ; nor need we be tains by the Saxonage of England, and astonished, as the discovery was at we wish it a better fate than that first concealed in secrecy, that, after which befell Llywelyn. Every effort a lapse of nearly four centuries, to adto preserve it from that sepulchre in just the merits of the different claimwhich the Cornish is entombed de-ants should be attended with insuperserves encouragement, and nothing able difficulties. This is a point, howcan tend more to raise up protectors ever, which the author of the work beand defenders, than a display of the fore us investigates with much pa. exploits and labours of the illustrious tience, ability, and research. We do dead. In these patriotic ranks the not pretend to say that he has settled name of John H. Parry stands in- the claims of the original competitors scribed, and we flatter ourselves that beyond the reach of controversy, for bis remuneration will equal his me- this, the numerous obstacles that exritorious endeavours to call from the list, will in all probability render for recesses of torpor the spirits of the ever impossible; but his chronological departed, to animate their surviving details are highly interesting, and his sons.

arguments are cogent and convincing. Of the ancient manner of Print

ing in the East, and the claims of the Review.--Typographia, or the Prin

Chinese, he takes distinct notice, conter's Instructor, including an account

siders the pretensions of various cities of the origin of Printing, with biogra

and persons in Europe, traces the prophical notices of the Printers of

gress of the art among the continental England from Caxton to the close of

nations, and follows its introduction the sixteenth century, 8c. &c. By I.

: | into England by the justly celebrated Johnson, Printer. Two vols. 32mo. pp. 632, 663. London. Longman,

10: William Caxton.

In prosecuting these inquiries, the Co. 1824.

| anthor seems to have been guided by This is a work of very peculiar merit, impartiality. To the claims of the ri. whether we regard the subject of which val candidates he has given all their

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